


You Fill My Head With You

by soecrates



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Kim Hongjoong, I'll update tags as I go, I'm Bad At Tagging, It's good I promise, Just read, Kim Hongjoong has a crush, M/M, Med Student Park Seonghwa, Meet-Cute, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Kim Hongjoong, Seonghwa sings at cafes, Seonghwa too but they're both dumb, Shy Park Seonghwa, Song Mingi and Jeong Yunho are Best Friends, Strangers to Lovers, We Die Like Men, Wooyoung plotted against Seonghwa, kind of, producer kim hongjoong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soecrates/pseuds/soecrates
Summary: In a sudden spur of events, Hongjoong finds himself in Seonghwa's car, wet and confused, and expecting to be paid to produce him a song. In the process, Hongjoong does not, in fact, get paid, and instead gets a crush and enough awkwardness to last him a decade.Seonghwa just wanted to have dinner. Hongjoong just needed a ride. But things happened, and here they were.(Featuring Song Mingi and Jung Wooyoung as conspirators-slash-wingmen.)
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	1. We Were Set Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys ! I'm back and now part of the ATEEZ fandom *crowd cheers* I've just recently fallen down this hellhole tho and this is my first ATEEZ fic so pls be gentle. I love this pairing and wanted to play around with their dynamics a little, so this baby came out.  
> It'll be a chaptered fic, though I don't know how long nor how long I'll take between updates since college sucks but I promise I'll actually finish this one lmaooo
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated ! Enjoy :D
> 
> also go pester me on twitter @soecrates (no link cuz god didnt bless me with that talent)

Scurrying to find shelter beneath the canopy of a restaurant’s main entrance, Hongjoong cursed. His clothes had gotten soaked, as well as his hair. Reaching behind to check for his bag, he found that it was wet on the outside but still dry on the inside. Sighing in relief, his shoulders slacked. He let his weight shift to one hip and squeezed out the water drenching his tee. 

Just his luck, honestly. Laughing at his demise, he shook out the wetness in his hair too. Oh well. All he could do was wait for the rain to pass to go home. Finding a cab in the middle of Hongdae would be mission impossible, and he refused to walk any further in this rain to try and find one on the outskirts of the neighbourhood. It had started as a gentle drizzle at first, then the sky broke and water poured down over Hongdae as if in bucketloads, fat droplets soaking Hongjoong in seconds. 

Five minutes of crouching awkwardly on the curb later, his phone rang in his pocket. He picked it out, having forgotten it was in his pants, and answered. “Yeah?”

“Hyung?” came his friend’s voice. It sounded rough and deep through the phone. “You still in Hongdae?” Hongjoong made an affirmative noise at the back of his throat.

“Why?”

“I’m guessing it’s raining there too?”

“Cats and dogs.”

Hongjoong could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, and he narrowed his eyes down at his feet. Mingi was not to be trusted when plotting. “Need a ride?”

“Depends,” he sucked his teeth and pushed himself up to a stand. “Is this another plan of yours to get me laid?”

“To get you a job, actually,” Mingi sounded offended. The gall this guy had. “Wooyoung has a friend who’d been looking for someone to produce him a song, and he told him to give you a call. Though he hasn’t yet and Wooyoung figures he probably won’t, so he took matters into his own hands. Where are you right now? Send me your location, he’ll go pick you up in a couple minutes.”

“Wooyoung?” Hongjoong had zoned out halfway through Mingi’s ramble.

Mingi grunted. “No, his friend. Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong was silent for a moment, then, “Are you high?”

“No! Just do as I say if you want a ride back home. Text me your location, hyung! I’ll send you a pic of the guy so you know who to expect. He drives a shitty corolla from the 60’s, it’s white.” 

Before Hongjoong could but in a word of protest Mingi hung up on him, leaving him gaping, eyebrows furrowed, as he stared down at his phone. He looked up, wondered if the conversation they’d just had had been a figment of his imagination, and then figured what the heck. It was getting late anyway, and if he stayed in his soaked clothes any longer he’d be sure to catch a cold in the next couple of days, so he rolled his eyes, turned on his gps, and texted Mingi a link with his location attached. 

Sure enough, a moment later he got a picture. Without thinking about it too much, Hongjoong opened it, shaking his head in disbelief that this was really happening, and almost choked on his spit the moment the image loaded into full quality. 

“Holy shit.” Wooyoung’s friend turned out to be some kind of supermodel-- big doe eyes, owlish, almost, and a pretty face. In the image he was smiling, the soft, gentle kind, and looking down at it Hongjoong felt himself make a noise from the back of his throat. Something between a whimper and a grunt. Goddamnit, Mingi. 

_ You sure this isn’t a plot to meddle in my love life?  _ He sent the other in response, and Mingi replied with two laughing emojis before typing out,  _ he’s handsome right? Anyway, nah it’s not like that this time I promise.  _

Pocketing his phone, Hongjoong waited, although dubious. This whole ordeal seemed way too perfectly orchestrated for his taste. Still, he stood there, arms crossed, idle, until his phone buzzed in his pants again.  _ He says he’s almost there.  _

Okay, Hongjoong thought. Pursing his lips, he fell down to a crouch and winced as more water squirted out of his jeans at the motion. He applied some pressure to the fabric around his calves to wring whatever rainwater he could from his pants, but after a while he deemed it fruitless. 

Poor guy. His Corolla was about to get swamped by a wet stranger. 

Around a handful of minutes later, Hongjoong spotted an old looking Corolla approaching from the corner. He got to his feet and walked as close to the edge of the curb as he could while still standing under the canopy. The rain had yet to let up. Hongjoong’s upcycled sneakers were definitely ruined forever. A tragedy, he sighed. 

The Corolla approached, then parked about a foot to Hongjoong’s right, but they didn’t roll the window down or even honk to catch his attention. Hongjoong stared at it with pursed lips, eyes narrowed. This was how people got murdered, he thought, figuring fuck it, there wasn’t much to live for anyway, might as well, and strode over to peek into the driver’s window like a creep. 

Inside, Hongjoong saw a man startle so hard his head hit the roof of the small car. Jumping back, Hongjoong unpocketed his phone to take another look at the picture Mingi had sent. It was hard to tell with the droplets covering the window, but Hongjoong knew for a fact this had to be him. There weren’t exactly a ton of white ass Corollas from the middle ages driving around Hongdae this time of the night. 

Finally, an awkward moment later, the guy rolled (yes,  _ rolled.  _ Hongjoong saw the shoulder rollage) his window down to blink up at Hongjoong with twinkling brown eyes. Hongjoong stared right back. 

“C-can I help you with something?” the man wondered. Hongjoong glanced at his phone screen, then back at his face, and thought yeah, this is definitely the same person. Still, he offered his phone to the man so he could tell him himself. He took it, appearing like a disgruntled, confused puppy. 

“Is that you?” Hongjoong asked him. The man nodded before handing Hongjoong his phone back. Hongjoong scratched his head. “Do you happen to know a guy named Wooyoung?”

The man nodded. “Yes? I’m-- uh, supposed to pick him up… here.”

“ _ Really _ ?” Hongjoong drawled with the air of someone saying,  _ you don’t say? _ Mingi was going to get his ass beat when he got home. “I was told  _ you  _ were gonna pick  _ me  _ up.” The man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Hongjoong rubbed a hand down his cold face. “I’m Hongjoong? Wooyoung told you about me? I make music.”

Hongjoong could not believe this whole ordeal was happening while it rained this hard. He was practically yelling so his voice would carry across. There was about a foot distance between him and the car, and frankly it was hard to see the other properly through the rain, but still he saw his lips suddenly forming a perfect ‘o’ as he most likely put two and two together and realized he’d been set up. 

Looking resigned, the man nodded his head at him before smiling. He was still blushing when he tipped his head toward the passenger seat. “Right. Come inside.”

Hongjoong glared up at the sky before sprinting to the other side of the car and sliding into the passenger seat. It was warm inside. Perhaps a little too crowded, bordering on stuffy, but Hongjoong supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. Settling into his seat and clicking his seatbelt in place, he sighed. 

“I am so sorry for wetting your car.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” The man-- Jeonghwa? -- smiled at him a tad awkwardly. He rolled back up the window and started the engine, put the gear on first to take them forward and out of Hongdae’s rainy, busy streets. “You were promised a ride, so.”

Silence fell over them for a long minute before Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Uhm. Thanks,” he said. “Although I feel like you were lowkey set up.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghwa gave a sheepish chuckle that made the hairs on Hongjoong’s arms stand up, it was that uncomfortable. “I was uhm, Wooyoung told me to pick him up here so we could have dinner together.”

Hongjoong snorted. Sneaky bastard. “Sounds very Wooyoung of him, to pull this off.” The other simply crumpled all his features in a grimace and sighed.  _ Yeah…  _ Shifting awkwardly in his seat, he wondered, “So uh, I take it you sing, Jeonghwa?”

“Seonghwa,” Jeonghwa corrected, and Hongjoong felt his face flush in embarrassment. Christ, this couldn’t be worse, could it?

“Seonghwa!” he chuckled nervously, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Seonghwa didn’t appear offended, just bemused. He took a pause before answering. “I do. Sing. I do. A little at least.”

“That’s cool!” Hongjoong was genuine in his praise. “What genre?”

“Oh, uh, R&B?” Hongjoong hummed, urging him on, “or ballads. I was told my voice suits ballads well.”

“You must be good then,” Hongjoong told him. 

“Oh?”

“I mean, not everyone can sing ballads and do them justice. So if your voice suits them you must have a very nice voice.” 

To Hongjoong, this was a fact-- modus ponens type of argumentatively drawn conclusion -- but Seonghwa blushed like he’d told him the biggest compliment he’d ever received in his life. Maybe he had? Hongjoong didn’t know. 

“Anyway, Wooyoung told me you were looking for someone to produce a song for you?” They stopped for a moment due to traffic, and Hongjoong took the opportunity to sit facing Seonghwa to inspect him further. He could only see vague hints of his profile due to the dim lighting in the car, but it was enough to make out some of his features. Seonghwa wore his hair halfway over his forehead, long enough to tease at his eyelashes but not hide them completely. Which was smart, Hongjoong thought. It would be foolish of him to have that pair of eyes and choose to hide them. 

“I am,” Seonghwa drawled. “At least I think I am. So far I’ve only sung covers, so I thought it would be nice to sing something of my own for once.” 

“Do you have a youtube channel or something?”

“Hm?”

“Who do you sing for?” Hongjoong wondered, then chuckled. “That’s not supposed to be a deep question, I just mean-- are you a cafe singer or a youtuber singer?”

Seonghwa smiled. “I’m a cafe singer.” Traffic moved forward, and so did they. “San, Wooyoung’s flatmate, works at a cafe that has open mic nights on Fridays. I’ve been singing there for a while now.” 

“You ever thought of like, doing itfor a living?” Hongjoong asked him, genuinely curious. Seonghwa shrugged his shoulder. 

“Singing?” Hongjoong hummed. “Not really. Not yet at least. I mainly started doing it out of a bet. I’m just now starting to take myself seriously.” After a beat, Seonghwa gestured at himself with one hand and said, “I’m in my second year of medicine, so music was never in my plans.”

“I see,” Hongjoong drawled. He let the car fall into silence until they reached a red light in the outskirts of Hongdae and Hongjoong realized Seonghwa was driving them in the opposite direction where he lived. “Uh, I just realized I didn’t tell you where I lived.”

“Oh!” Seonghwa perked up a little. “I forgot I was meant to drive you home.” His laugh shouldn’t have made Hongjoong feel warm like this, but it did. “What’s your address?” 

Hongjoong told him. Seonghwa steered them in the right direction after that, and remained silent for what was left of the ride to Hongjoong’s apartment. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but Hongjoong could feel the tension in Seonghwa’s shoulders from where he was clearly holding himself back from speaking. It was starting to make Hongjoong’s leg twitch anxiously under the seat. 

By the time they’d parked in front of his apartment building, Hongjoong’s leg was jumping up and down. When Seonghwa turned to face him, he stopped. Smiled. Tried to seem as approachable as possible. He would gladly help the other if he asked-- he hoped his face portrayed that openness. 

Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. Seonghwa smiled at him, but didn’t say a word. 

After a minute of waiting, Hongjoong went  _ fuck it _ , and did it himself. “Would you give me your number?” he asked. Seonghwa blinked, startled. “To like, work on your song sometime. I’d love to help you out if you want me to.”

“Really?” Seonghwa’s eyes were practically glittering. Hongjoong nodded. “Wow. Okay.” He took Hongjoong’s offered phone and tapped his phone number’s digits into it before handing it back. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft and genuine. 

“Sure,” Hongjoong smiled. He opened the car door. It wasn't raining anymore. “Thank you for the ride, really. I know you were kind of forced into it but--”

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa waved him off, “It was not a bother.”

“Sorry about wetting your seat, also.” Hongjoong held the door open to wait for his response. Seonghwa shrugged, smirking. 

“It will dry,” he said. Hongjoong closed the door and walked around the bumper to get to the driver’s window. He pressed the call button on Seonghwa’s newly added number. Inside the car, the man drew the phone up to his ear, confused, and Hongjoong grinned. “Hello?”

“That’s my number,” Hongjoong told him, pointing at his phone and then at Seonghwa’s. The man looked up at him with parted lips. He looked pretty in the moonlit street. “Call me sometime, yeah?”

“Sure,” Seonghwa agreed. Hongjoong smiled and began to walk away. Seonghwa waved, and Hongjoong waved him right back, thumb tucked into his palm. 

“Night.”

“Goodnight.”

  
  


-

  
  


Days later, while Hongjoong had been knee deep into his new song, a piece of pizza long gone cold between his teeth as he tapped away at his laptop, Seonghwa called him. 

Hongjoong only picked up the phone because its incessant buzzing was starting to annoy him, honestly, so he didn’t mean to growl at him the way he did in his greeting, but alas, things happened. 

“Hello?” came his flustered voice, “I-is this Hongjoong?” 

Mouth falling open, his pizza toppling onto his laptop like a solid slice of grease, he straightened up his position, hastily shoving his headphones down his neck and clearing his throat. 

“Yeah! Yeah--” he’d taken his phone away from his face to peek at the call identifier to double check who it was-- “Seonghwa? Hi, how are you?”

“Uhm, good. Thank you.”

“I’m glad!” Hongjoong rubbed tiredly at his eyes before sliding further down the couch cushions. “How can I help you?”

“Uhm, I was wondering…” Seonghwa’s voice sounded mellower through the phone, he noticed, a little more subdued. “Are you free some day this week? I was hoping we could meet and talk about the song?”

There’s a tilt in his voice at the end that made Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow tenderly. It was endearing, his shyness. “Sure,” he told him, “Thursday work for you?” Hongjoong checked the date, just to make sure he was on the right day, and relaxed when he saw they were still on a Tuesday. He quickly made a mental reconnaissance of his shifts at the theatre that week before saying, “I’m free anytime in the evening.”

“Uhm, is 5 ish okay?”

“Yeah!” Hongjoong opened a note tab on his laptop and typed the date and time so he wouldn’t forget. “Where do you wanna meet? I sort of have a studio here at my place, if that’s--”

“Oh--”

“Or we can just,” Hongjoong shrugged to himself, “brainstorm some ideas at a cafe if you don’t have much prepared yet.”

“I think that would be better,” Seonghwa confessed, sounding sheepish. He chuckled, albeit dryly. “I don’t really know how this works since I’ve never done it before.”

“That’s okay! We can sort it out when we meet on Thursday.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong drawled. “Cool then. I’ll uhm. I’ll see you Thursday?”

“Yup.”

He was about to hang up when he realized-- “Shit wait, we didn’t say where.”

“Right!” Seonghwa was quiet for a moment before saying, “Live Alive Cafe sound good for you?”

“Sure,” Hongjoong nodded, “I'll be there.”

“Wait-- do you need a ride?” Seonghwa asked. “I can pick you up instead of us just meeting there.”

“If it’s not a bother?”

“Not at all! I mean, you’re the one going out of their way to help me with this caprice of mine, ‘s the least I can do.” 

“Bold of you to assume I won’t charge you for this.” He was going to, initially, since Mingi  _ had  _ told him Seonghwa was a  _ job,  _ but apparently Wooyoung thought giving out Hongjoong’s favors was his own right and told Seonghwa Hongjoong, his  _ friend _ , would do it for free. (For free! As if Hongjoong’s job at the theatre paid enough to give himself such luxury--) And Hongjoong hadn’t had the heart to charge Seonghwa for this, not after seeing how excited and shy he’d been during their first meeting. So Hongjoong was joking, obviously, when he said this, but the way Seonghwa paused made him realize his sarcasm might not have travelled to the other end of the line. He laughed. “I’m joking! Of course I’m joking. Just give credits where due if this catapults you into stardom.”

Seonghwa’s chuckle sounded nervous. “Doubt it, but thanks for the optimism.”

“Dream big!” Hongjoong encouraged him with, “Otherwise your accomplishments will always be small.” Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully from the other end. Hongjoong poked his sturdy pizza slice and sighed. “Alright, so Thursday?”

“Yup.”

“5 pm, you’ll pick me up?” 

“I’ll pick you up,” Seonghwa confirmed. 

“You still have my address?”

“I remember the way.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure thing. See you.”

“See you.”

Hongjoong hung up the phone.

  
  


-

  
  


Waiting on the curb, headphones in, Hongjoong swayed gently along to the familiar beat spilling into his ears. It was ten minutes till five, but Hongjoong wouldn’t want Seonghwa to be early and be too shy to text him and end up waiting here outside. He was doing the man a favor, he thought to himself as he crouched to sit along the edge of the sidewalk. It totally wasn’t because he was anxious about being alone with Seonghwa again after how awkward both their past interactions had been. 

Hongjoong wasn’t typically someone hard to talk to-- he prided himself in being very approachable, thank you very much -- but something about Seonghwa triggered his fight or flight reflexes so hard it closed him right up, like a clam. Who knew why. Maybe it was the eyes, too open, too genuine, too… much. Seonghwa was too much, all at once. 

He was bobbing his head to Kehlani’s voice when the crunch of a pair of wheels on the pavement in front of him startled him out of his reverie. Glancing up, he met the side of Seonghwa’s shitty Corolla and found the corners of his lips twitching upward in amusement. Pushing himself up to a stand, he reached out to open the passenger door and peek inside, not yet going in. 

Hongjoong tilted his head to the side as he regarded the other gently. Seonghwa merely blinked up at him, the hint of a smile lingering on his lips. “Hello,” he drawled with a grin, and Seonghwa’s smile finished spreading into a grin at this. 

“Hi,” he said, “come in.”

Hongjoong did. Balling up his headphones in his lap, he closed the door. “How’s your day been?” Seonghwa asked, and Hongjoong shrugged. 

“Basic,” he chuckled. “Yours?” They drove off into the street and Seonghwa pursed his lips at the road. Hongjoong indulged in watching him drive, the swift way his hand shifted the gears without even sparing it a second glance. 

“Boring,” Seonghwa said at last, laughing at his stale reply. “Could have gone by without living it.”

“I wish you could hit skip on days sometimes,” Hongjoong agreed, slightly taken aback by the sudden way Seonghwa glanced at him after he’d said that. He did a double take on Hongjoong and smiled, flushed, nodding. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

  
  


-

  
  
  


San was on his shift that day, which Hongjoong guessed was to blame for the fact that Wooyoung was lounging behind the counter when they got there. They approached them, Hongjoong with a raised eyebrow and Seonghwa with a knowing smirk. 

“Didn’t know you worked here too,” Hongjoong drawled, smirking at the way Wooyoung grinned at him, all teeth. 

“I don’t.”

Hongjoong nodded, laughing. He knew. “Can you tell your boy toy to get me an iced americano, no sugar, please?” Wooyoung was already calling San from over his shoulder when Hongjoong turned to ask Seonghwa if he wanted anything. 

“Uh, anything sweet is fine.”

“Does your dumbass know the menu too or just the way into San’s pants?” Hongjoong snickered, and Wooyoung snorted at his blunt teasing. 

“I know Seonghwa hyung likes Macchiatos,” Wooyoung made a face at him, rolling his eyes. “Get laid, will you? You’re being snappy again.” Hongjoong scoffed. “Go find a seat I’ll text you when they’re done.”

“Thanks,” Hongjoong said. He hitched his bag further up his shoulder as they made their way to a booth near the back, where they wouldn’t be disturbed by the few customers sitting around. 

“How long have you been friends with Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asked him once they sat down across from each other. Hongjoong slid his laptop onto the table. Seonghwa's eyes were full of mirth.

“I was his senior in high school,” he told him, “Eventually we developed a stockholm syndrome relationship," Hongjoong snorted, "where I’m the one captive.”

Seonghwa chuckled. He glanced at Wooyoung above Hongjoong’s shoulder. “He’s quite a handful.”

“And yet, you just can’t get enough of him,” Hongjoong snickered to himself. He rested his chin against his hand and blinked over at Seonghwa. “What about you, how’d you meet San?”

“My roommate tried to set us up for a date but it didn’t work out,” Seonghwa confessed. His cheeks were flushed when he said this, but he laughed when Hongjoong’s eyes went wide with surprise. 

Hongjoong made a show of looking back at San with a gaping mouth, then back at Seonghwa. He furrowed his brows. “Just  _ what  _ didn’t work out? I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to deem San undateable.”

Seonghwa scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know. He’s just not my type I guess.” Then he waved a hand in Wooyoung’s general direction. “And I wasn’t his either so we became friends instead.”

“This was when?”

“Two years ago,” Seonghwa told him. “I was starting college.”

“Oh, wow.” Seonghwa nodded. “Damn.” Just to tease, and mainly to ease whatever tension there was between them from being practical strangers, Hongjoong said the dumbest shit ever known to humanity-- “Then what  _ is  _ your type?”

Now, it wasn’t meant to come out as suggestive or salacious as it did, but it  _ did _ , and Seonghwa’s eyes went wide, and Hongjoong wanted the earth to eat him whole. 

“Uh--”

Thank god, his phone buzzed at that same moment. Hongjoong unlocked it in a haste, didn’t bother to check if it was Wooyoung or not, and mumbled a half assed  _ I’ll go get our coffees _ as he quite literally sprinted away from their booth. 

In front of the counter, Wooyoung raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “What did you do?” he asked, smirking with narrowed eyes, and Hongjoong sighed. 

“Something stupid.”

“The usual,” Wooyoung snorted. He nudged the drinks into his hands and gave him a wink. “Try not to fuck this one up, yeah? I practically gave it to you on a silver platter.”

Hongjoong couldn’t even think about what Wooyoung’s words meant; a customer had walked up behind him and he had to move away. 

Heading back to the booth was quite the odyssey, he thought as he bit on the inside of his lip anxiously. He sat down across from Seonghwa and slid his Macchiato over. 

“So I know you said you’re good at singing ballads,” Hongjoong began before Seonghwa could even think of continuing the conversation he’d run away from, “but I still want to show you some alt R&B songs with vibes I hope you might like.” Hongjoong opened his laptop, refusing to make eye contact with the man across from him, and tapped away to find the songs he was looking for. He plugged in his headphones and offered them to Seonghwa, who took them despite the befuddled look on his face. 

He gave them a listen. And when they finished he nodded, giving the headphones back to Hongjoong. “Is this how you usually go by starting a new song?”

Hongjoong shrugged. “Sort of.” He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “I usually start with a beat I made up while brushing my teeth or something and then go from there.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nodded. His fingers tapped anxiously on the table. 

“Don’t stress,” Hongjoong shrugged, noticing the way Seonghwa had drawn his bottom lip between his teeth. “The point of this is to create something you like. It should be a fun process.” Seonghwa glanced up at him through his eyelashes, looking sheepish, and Hongjoong sighed. “How about we just-- listen to music for today. Get to know each other a little. That sound good to you?”

Seonghwa was hesitant, but in the end he nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sounds good.”

  
  


-

  
  


Minutes later found them next to each other on the same side of the booth, thighs pressed close under the table as they shared Hongjoong’s headphones and scavenged soundcloud for songs they both liked. Things had been running smoothly so far-- Seonghwa seemed to be bobbing along to everything Hongjoong played for him. Still, Hongjoong didn’t want to be the only one offering an input.

“Do you use soundcloud?” Hongjoong wondered halfway into a Dean song, and Seonghwa nodded. “Wanna log into your account?”

“Uh, sure.” Seonghwa seemed to hesitate as his hands hovered atop Hongjoong’s keyboard. After a moment where his resolve seemed to break, Seonghwa's soundcloud account blinked back at them from the screen of his laptop, his homepage reflecting Hongjoong’s username right beneath the ‘recents’ section. 

It took Hongjoong a moment to fully process what was happening before he finally faced Seonghwa, gaping. “You listen to my music?” he asked, eyes gleaming in awe, and Seonghwa blushed. 

“Uh, yeah.” The man glanced at him, biting his lip, then back at the laptop, nodding. “Yeah, uhm.” He rubbed at his nose as if by a nervous tick, “You’re good,” Seonghwa confessed as he shifted in his seat. Hongjoong had never seen a man look so embarrassed. “I thought you were some new hotshot when Wooyoung told me about you,” Seonghwa laughed, shyly giving him a sideways glance, and Hongjoong flushed under the attention, “‘s why I was too shy to ask you to help me out.”

Okay, that explained the whole ‘Wooyoung’s friend will give you a ride’ situation, but still-- “Really? _ \-- _ ” Seonghwa saw him laugh to himself in disbelief, “Goodness, I thought you were just this awkward around  _ everybody-- _ ”

Seonghwa laughed. “Just around extremely talented people.”

“You flatter me,” Hongjoong drawled.

Seonghwa shrugged, sheepish, “It’s true. You’re really good at what you do.” Hongjoong felt himself turn shy, all of a sudden. “I’m glad Wooyoung forced me into this. Otherwise I might have regretted it.”

Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows at the other. Snorted. “I’m just an ordinary guy who makes music as a hobby,” he confessed, “I promise you there’s nothing special about me.”

“Everybody has something that makes them special,” Seonghwa retorted. He met Hongjoong’s gaze then, and Hongjoong felt his insides do a backflip at the tenderness he found there. It wasn’t common for Hongjoong to feel this much around a virtual stranger, yet here he was, blushing under Seonghwa’s doe eyed gaze. 

Hongjoong blinked, slow, before turning his attention back to the laptop. He cleared his throat. "Uh. So… I take it you're into hip hop too?"

"Sure," Seonghwa said. He wrapped a hand around his coffee cup and tapped his fingers against the plastic. "If that's what your sound is." Hongjoong caught him glancing up at him through his eyelashes and felt his throat go dry under the other's gaze. 

For lack of anything to say, Hongjoong just nodded, took a sip of his Americano. Cleared his throat again because shit, Seonghwa was making him flustered with all his easy compliments. 

"I just realized I still haven't heard you sing." Hongjoong braved enough to look up and meet Seonghwa's gaze, glad to find him startled like a deer caught in the headlights. Good to have the upperhand for once. 

Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck. "Right uhm. San might have taken a video of me." Hongjoong perked up at this, curious. "I'll ask him to send me one." Seonghwa reached for his phone to send a text to San, who’d taken a break and was chatting idly with Wooyoung on a table near the entrance. Watching them, Hongjoong felt himself smile fondly. They made a lovely pair, he thought. 

"What songs have you done covers of?" Hongjoong asked around the straw between his teeth. It was a habit of his, to do this. Wooyoung hated it. 

" _ I don't love you anymore  _ by Urban Zakapa," Seonghwa threw his gaze up at the ceiling while he recounted the names, and Hongjoong delighted in the sight of his bare throat. " _ Dance  _ by Offonoff,  _ Instagram  _ by Dean." 

Hongjoong nodded along, then did a double take at the mention of Offonoff's  _ Dance--  _ "Wait," instinctively he held out a hand between them, " _ Dance?  _ Did you do the rap to that?" Seonghwa nodded. Hongjoong huffed a laugh. "Damn. I'd like to see video footage of that, if you have it." 

"I'm intimidated."

"Don't," Hongjoong laughed, "It's just one of my favorite songs. I'd like to see your take on it." 

"I'm not sure if that was meant to make me feel better about myself," Seonghwa said, but he was smirking where he looked down at his phone, which let Hongjoong know he was teasing. Hongjoong scoffed. 

"So Wooyoung snatched his phone," Seonghwa told him, shifting to face him in the booth, a smile tugging at his lips that Hongjoong mirrored. "And sent me a shitton of videos--" Seonghwa slid the phone toward him on the table and Hongjoong leaned forward to see the screen properly. Glancing at his laptop, he unplugged his headphones and tucked them into Seonghwa's phone instead. Seonghwa hit play on the third video Wooyoung had sent, and Seonghwa's mellow voice was filling his ears in a second. 

"Oh, wow," Hongjoong drawled, gaping, "Oh, wow." Seonghwa bowed his head in embarrassment. Hongjoong was wearing both headphones, so Seonghwa wasn't hearing himself sing along to Dean's  _ Instagram _ . It was a journey, he thought, absolutely immersed in the way Seonghwa's voice carried the song so differently from the original. "Like, it's Dean's  _ Instagram _ ," he began, genuinely bewildered, "but it's yours." Seonghwa glanced up at him shyly. "You made it yours." 

Seonghwa looked away with red ears and cheeks. It was lovely, to fluster him like this. Hongjoong smiled, all teeth. Endeared. "I loved this." He tapped at the phone then stopped himself with a glance up at the other, "Can I watch the other ones?" Seonghwa shrugged, nodding. 

"Go ahead."

The next fifteen or so minutes were spent with Hongjoong swaying along to Seonghwa's voice and practically losing his shit when he played the video San had taken of him singing Offonoff's  _ Dance _ . 

"You can  _ rap!"  _

"I don't--"

"Oh, don't give me that shit, yes you can!"

Seonghwa had hid his face in his hands at his head bobbing, flustered by Hongjoong's genuine eagerness to his covers. 

"Seonghwa-ssi," he said, shook, "you're hella good." 

"Why are you speaking politely to me all of a sudden?" Seonghwa's eyes went wide as he laughed. He shook his hand at him. "Please don't do that--"

"I feel the need to, are you kidding me? You're idol material--"

Seonghwa threw himself at the corner of the booth where it was pressed to the wall. Hongjoong giggled at his theatrics. He was starting to like this guy the longer he spent time with him.

He took his headphones out and poked Seonghwa's arm in a friendly manner. "Don't get shy." 

"Then don't  _ make  _ me shy!"

Hongjoong laughed. "I'm not even remotely teasing you, by the way," he confessed, taking a sip of his coffee. "You're seriously talented. I meant what I said the other day."

Seonghwa raised a questioning brow. Hongjoong swallowed, shaking his coffee around. The ice inside it crackled. "Don't forget me when you blow up, alright?"

Seonghwa made a 'tch' noise, scoffing, and pushed his hair back from his face as if by a nervous habit. "Stop."

"No." Hongjoong refused to. "I have to give credit where due. You're really good. I really like your voice." 

Seonghwa's eyes went soft. "Thank you."

Hongjoong smiled. "You're welcome." 

For a long moment they just stared at each other like that, Seonghwa in disbelief and Hongjoong in mild awe. Then Seonghwa seemed to realize how weird he was being and shook the awkwardness off his shoulders. 

Chuckling, Seonghwa rested his chin on his hand and watched Hongjoong carefully. 

Hongjoong blinked. "What?" 

Seonghwa shrugged. "I'm glad Wooyoung made me talk to you," he said, sounding brutally honest. Hongjoong huffed. 

"We probably would've ended up meeting one way or another, don't you think?" Hongjoong mused. “Considering we have friends in common.” Seonghwa wouldn't take those eyes off him, and it was starting to make him anxious. No--  _ giddy.  _

"Maybe," Seonghwa agreed, "but I'm glad it was like this." 

Hongjoong could only blink. Looking away, he chuckled. Seonghwa's smile was sweet, he thought, but his voice was sweeter. 

Sneaking a glance his way once more, Hongjoong realized he was right-- he was glad it was like this too. 

  
  
  


-

  
  


It’s two hours later and Hongjoong can’t figure out if the jittery feeling he had was from the extra caffeine he’d dumped into his system or just the easy way Seonghwa seemed to be talking to him now that they’d both gotten to know each other a little more. Where words stuck to his tongue before, they now fell off his mouth freely, with more confidence. Speaking with Seonghwa reminded Hongjoong of the feeling he got when talking to an old friend-- those you happen to stumble into after years of not seeing each other. There was still a layer of awkwardness in their conversation, but it seemed to be getting thinner and thinner as time went by. 

Seonghwa was in his third year of medicine. He had an older brother who was currently in the military. As he’d told Hongjoong earlier, he’d met San through a friend they had in common, Yeosang.  _ He’s been my friend since we were kids,  _ Seonghwa’d said, smiling around his straw,  _ he’s a devil, but I love him, you know?  _ Hongjoong had sneaked a glance over at Wooyoung seated across from San a few tables away and found himself chuckling.  _ Yeah.  _ He knew. 

They were only months apart, rather than a year like Hongjoong had wrongly assumed at first. He was probably still blushing from how embarrassed he’d been to find out Seonghwa was his senior--  _ I don’t mind, it’s okay. It’s just a couple months anyway, you don’t have to call me hyung. _ Still, Hongjoong had embarrassingly thought Seonghwa was  _ younger  _ than him. A tragedy. 

“Are you studying anything?” Seonghwa asked him now, back against the wall, a leg hiked up so his knee rested against the side of the table. Hongjoong was sitting sideways in order to face him. He shook his head. 

“I dropped out last year,” he told him. Seonghwa’s eyebrows rose to his hairline at this. Hongjoong laughed. “Yeah.”

“What were you majoring in?” Seonghwa didn’t appear the slightest bit condescending.

“Business,” Hongjoong scoffed. It’d been his father’s idea, and Hongjoong had followed along at first, figuring his parents must know better, but after living miserably and without a clear path ahead of him, Hongjoong had decided to finally take the time he needed to find himself. He did so through his music. 

“You don’t strike me as a business guy.” Seonghwa was smirking. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he countered with, sly. 

Seongwha shrugged, sheepish, “There’s just so much art in you,” he said, shaking his head as if he couldn't’ understand it. He gestured at Hongjoong’s bright red hair and hand-painted jeans, as if they illustrated his point. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hongjoong snorted. 

“It was one,” Seonghwa nodded, “I mean, it gives you… personality. It makes you interesting.” 

Hongjoong watched him for a long moment before laughing and looking away. “Thank you.” Seonghwa tipped his head toward him in a silent  _ you’re welcome.  _ He went to tap at his phone to check the time when Seonghwa asked him, 

“When did you start making music?”

It was 7:15. “As a hobby? I was in highschool,” Hongjoong confessed, eyes lost. They’d unfocused somewhere atop his laptop and he didn’t bother to focus them again. “I started taking it seriously after I dropped out of college. Mainly because of peer pressure.” Seonghwa raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Wooyoung?”

He nodded, humming. “And Mingi.” Blinking the dryness out of his eyes he glanced back at Seonghwa and found him staring with bright owlish eyes. “I met him in college. He’s crazy talented. He latched onto me as soon as he heard one of my tracks.” He chuckled fondly at the memory of a younger Mingi looking down at him with gleaming eyes, as if he was some sort of music sensei. “We live together.” 

Something must have possessed Seonghwa into saying “Is he your boyfriend?” because he sure as hell didn’t look like he’d consciously uttered those words himself. Hongjoong glanced up at him through his lashes and raised an eyebrow. Seonghwa blushed, waved an anxious hand. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my--”

“He’s not,” Hongjoong snickered, bemused by Seonghwa’s sudden shyness, “He’s just a friend.” Seonghwa nodded. He looked like he wanted to dig a little hole on the ground and then bury himself in it. Hongjoong sympathized. “He’s a sweet guy, though. Huge dork.” He gave Seonghwa a short smile to let him know his question hadn’t offended him at all. 

Seonghwa huffed a gentle laugh, looking away to take a sip of his long gone macchiato. It made a loud slurping noise that Hongjoong snorted at, bemused by Seonghwa’s shyness. There was that same tension building around Seonghwa’s shoulders that had bothered Hongjoong back when he’d been given a ride, except this time Hongjoong just sat there and waited patiently for Seonghwa to speak. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this time Hongjoong knew what was making the other so stiff.

“I didn’t mean to assume--” Seonghwa cut himself off as he sneaked a glance at Hongjoong, who was waiting for him with his cheek resting on his hand. He kindly blinked up at the other, nodding him along. Seonghwa blushed and sighed, as if embarrassed. “It’s just-- your comments earlier, I-- sorry.”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong chuckled, “It’s no big deal, don’t worry.” Still, Seonghwa frowned. “I mean I don’t go around with a gay flag wrapped around my shoulders, but I’m not exactly hiding it either.” Seonghwa snorted at that. Hongjoong tipped his head in acquiescence, “Though you have a point. I mean, I doubt even a straight man would dare say San isn’t attractive.”

Seonghwa laughed. Hongjoong found himself smiling along. 

  
  


-

  
  


It was late by the time they’d both agreed to finally go home. Hongjoong had surprised himself by realizing he was anticipating their next meeting. Seonghwa was nice. Unusually so. The kind of nice that made you think wasn’t genuine because it was so earnest, and a person couldn’t possibly be that invested in a stranger, could they? Except Seonghwa seemed to be, and utterly so. 

He waved him away with simon-pure gentleness in his gaze, saying  _ I’ll see you,  _ after they’d agreed to meet again on the weekend, this time in Hongjoong’s apartment, where they could start messing around with some sounds, and Hongjoong had felt his heart shrink into a raisin as he smiled back. 

He was falling. Already, he was falling. 

Whatever, he thought as he waved Seonghwa goodbye, it wouldn’t be the first fickle crush he’s ever had. He would live on; he rarely ever developed any deeper feelings on anyone, and he certainly doubted Seonghwa would be the exception. 

Or at least, he hoped he wouldn’t be. 

  
  


-

  
  


Sometimes he focused so intensely on his work that it was a miracle any of his coworkers still liked him. 9 times out of 10 he ignored them because he was too busy fiddling with the sound system of the theatre to pay them much mind. Though perhaps they kept coming back because he was actually nice to be around whenever he wasn’t completely absorbed on what he was doing. 

This one girl though-- always lurked in the background somewhere in his vicinity. Hongjoong honestly forgot her name every time she saw her. Not because he hadn’t bothered to remember, but rather because she looked so entirely different each time she saw her from the one before that it was hard to associate her to just one  _ prénom _ . 

She was everyone and nobody all at once. 

As if beckoned by his own thoughts, she materialized next to him with a grin that always bordered on flirty. Except she never made any moves on him-- she was the one shoving him into other people instead; it was weird. 

“Your boyfriend taking you home again tonight?”

This time Hongjoong actually paused where he’d been tapping at the buttons on the sound system to look up at her with furrowed brows. “What?”

“That pretty boy that’s come pick you up the past couple weeks,” she elaborated, slow, like Hongjoong was a daft child. “Is he taking you home today too?”

Is she-- could she be talking about Seonghwa? 

“You mean Seonghwa?” he sputtered, confused, because he’d thought none of his colleagues at the theatre paid him enough attention to notice someone was now picking him up from work. 

The girl shrugged with a smirk. “I guess?” she drawled, leaning against the table as she blinked down at him. She had big brown eyes, lots of glitter on her cheeks. She was in charge of the lights in the place. Maybe that’s why she always seemed to be glowing herself. “Tall, handsome, big eyes. He smiles a lot when he’s with you so I assumed…”

“He does?” Hongjoong found himself saying. The girl raised a brow. Hongjoong shook his head. “Uhm.” He lowered his gaze before shifting in his seat to regard the girl more intently. “He’s not. We’re not uhm. Together. He’s just a friend.”

The girl’s eyebrows raised, mouthing  _ whatever you say _ , and Hongjoong frowned. 

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why would you ask if he was picking me up tonight too?”

The girl shrugged. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight.” At Hongjoong’s parted lips she laughed, shaking a hand in his direction as if to appease him. “Oh, not like that. Just. As a friend. I’d like to hang out with you sometime! You seem cool, but it’s hard to approach you when you’re working, so.”

Hongjoong blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling shyly. She pushed a strand of her curls behind her ear, revealing a row of hoops along the lobe and up into the cartilage. At the very top, there was a lime green gemstone, twinkling gently under the stage lights. Hongjoong pointed at his own right ear to illustrate when he said, “I like your earring.”

The girl drew a hand up to her ear, confused. “The green one,” Hongjoong said. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” she bowed her head slightly, sheepish. “It’s a peridot,” she explained. “It’s my birthstone.” Hongjoong hummed appreciatively. This girl was nice. 

“I’m sorry, but I keep forgetting your name,” Hongjoong told her, trying his best to appear sheepish despite the fact that she didn’t seem to be offended at all. She smiled and told him her name was Daeji. 

“Like-- like the flower?” he asked, and she laughed before nodding. 

“Like the flower, yeah.”

“Pretty,” he said, genuine, and smiled when it made her eyes crinkle cutely. He was about to open his mouth and tell her he’d love to have dinner with her tonight when his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him halt. 

He retrieved the device and pursed his lips down at Seonghwa’s name blinking on the screen. 

_ I was showering when this melody came to me as if by some calling from god,  _ said the text, and Hongjoong frowned amidst his chuckle because it wasn’t like Seonghwa at all to say something like this, but a millisecond after it came another one, a voice note this time, and Hongjoong wasn’t able to pay the text much mind after that. He drew the phone to his ear to listen and immediately smiled once the sound of Seonghwa’s voice started seeping from the mic, as if filtered from behind a closed door-- or a curtain-- ? A shower… curtain? Was that water?

Bewildered, he stared down at the phone in his hand before he chose to dismiss it altogether and deal with it after he got off work. 

“Was that the boyfriend?” Daeji teased, lips curling into a knowing smirk, and Hongjoong sighed, laughing breathily. 

“Sort of--” he groaned, “Seonghwa’s really just a friend. I’m helping him out with a song he’s been working on, that’s why he’s been picking me up lately.” Though why Hongjoong was out here explaining himself to a person he didn’t exactly know was beyond him, he still felt compelled to do so. It was the twinkling light in Daeji’s eyes, he thought. 

“Ah,” she drawled, clearly not convinced but choosing to play along anyway, “I see…” Hongjoong nodded, mumbling a  _ yeah,  _ under his breath. Daeji sighed melodramatically, shrugging. “Oh, well. Rain check on that dinner, then?” 

Hongjoong grinned up at her. Why not?

“Definitely.”

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Seonghwa always came ten minutes early or five minutes late-- there was no in between. Today’s case was the former. Hongjoong caught him sitting in one of the booths furthest from the stage as he happened to glance out into the audience’s seats while Inseong blabbered on about his queues. Hongjoong’s attention switched on and off from then on, gaze distracted by Seonghwa’s smile when he noticed Hongjoong’s stare on him and waved. 

Christ, this man was doing things to his heart he didn’t know were possible, and he’d barely known him for two weeks. Granted, they had the type of chemistry two strangers rarely had after meeting each other so suddenly. Maybe it had to do with how they were practically thrown into this whole mess by people they had in common-- maybe it was the bits of Wooyoung and San he saw in Seonghwa that made him easier to be around, or maybe it was the fact that Hongjoong had grown so infatuated with the unadulterated bits of Seonghwa he’d seen so far. 

Whatever it was-- it made him dizzyingly obvious. As he shook his head and pulled his gaze back to Inseong, he caught a glimpse of Daeji from over his shoulder, knowing eyes glinting when she winked, smug. 

Sigh. Whatever, he thought, and instead gathered his focus on the rest that Inseong had to say. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


“I’d figure a med student doesn’t have enough free time to spare fifteen minutes like this, but you’re somehow the exception to many things,” Hongjoong told him as he stopped in front of the booth Seonghwa sat in the far back. The man glanced up at him with big doe eyes and smiled. 

“I finished my assignments early today,” he explained, “and I don’t have work, so.”

“Lucky is he,” Hongjoong teased, and Seonghwa grinned. “Ready?”

Seonghwa nodded. “You?” Hongjoong hummed in agreement, and Seonghwa stood from his seat to walk with him out of the theatre. 

As they strode along the sidewalk to where Seonghwa’s car was parked, Hongjoong recalled his text message from earlier and touched Seonghwa on the arm to catch his attention.

“I heard the voice note you sent,” he said, licking his lips anxiously. Seonghwa glanced over and furrowed his brows in confusion.  _ Hmm?  _ “The melody you sent me earlier,” Hongjoong continued, “I listened to it, it’s good.”

For a brief moment Seonghwa looked exactly like he had the first time they met-- bewildered and pouty, like he was struggling to make sense of Hongjoong’s words and the why and who behind them. Like last time, it all ended up tracing back to Wooyoung. 

Hongjoong showed him the messages in their chat so he knew what he was talking about, and Seonghwa went from confused to annoyed to embarrassed in a matter of seconds-- “Ah, damnit, Wooyoung!” he cursed, covering his mouth with a hand as he read the text. He looked at Hongjoong and winced. “I didn’t send you that, it must have been Wooyoung-- he was at my place earlier.”

All of a sudden it dawned on Hongjoong-- the shower-like noises and the way Seonghwa’s voice had sounded contained-- his eyes widened, “You sing in the shower?” 

Hongjoong didn’t know a person’s face could go this red. He laughed. “Oh, no, hyung--” because for some reason he thought the honorific might give Seonghwa the slightest bit of comfort, to know that Hongjoong still respected him despite all this, “It’s good, I promise--”

“It’s embarrassing--” Seonghwa all but ran to the car, diving inside like he was trying not to look Hongjoong in the face, all while mumbling about how  _ Wooyoung, that little shit, I swear to god I’ll murder him--  _ and Hongjoong was bemused, to say the least. 

He walked the rest of the way to his car and giggled as he swept in, glancing at Seonghwa with smiling eyes. “Seonghwa,” he said, “It’s okay. It’s a good voice note.”

“I don’t trust that boy as far as I can throw him--”

“Then trust me,” Hongjoong but in, and Seonghwa’s gaze softened around the edges. Hongjoong smiled, patted his chest. “Trust me, it’s good.”

To get rid of Seonghwa’s disbelief, he snatched Seonghwa’s AUX cord and plugged it into his phone so he could play him the voice note. After a minute of severe reluctance from Seonghwa’s part, Hongjoong played the audio, and Seonghwa’s voice swept all over the Corolla’s insides, making Seonghwa go silent. 

It was nice, his voice, even with all the additional ruckus plopped on top of his singing. Hongjoong found himself humming along to it, fingers tapping against his leg as he thought of the possible chords to compliment it with. 

Once it ended, Hongjoong unplugged his phone. “See?” he nudged Seonghwa’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “It’s not bad at all. Don’t be embarrassed.”

The sigh of  _ relief  _ Seonghwa let out-- “I honestly thought it was gonna be worse than this.”

“Just what kind of shit has Wooyoung pulled on you, dude?” Hongjoong laughed. 

Seonghwa pushed the stick to first and drove, shaking his head. 

“You have no idea.”

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Seonghwa had been to his apartment exactly two times before, and both times he'd looked utterly out of place-- a tension in his shoulders like he was itching to do something about the absolute chaos raging in the room. Because it was, in a way, just one room-- sort of a cross between a studio apartment and a musical playground. 

Hongjoong had canvases scattered in the room near the window at the far end of the place, and next to the clutter of them stood a makeshift mic for recording, an electric keyboard and bass beside it. There was an old guitar too, but its strings were broken and Mingi had yet to fix them, so it remained unused. 

About two feet away from the kitchen were the stairs that led up to Mingi's loft bed, secluded somewhat in contrast to Hongjoong's, which was plopped quite literally in the middle of everything else. 

In sum, it was a haphazard arrangement of furniture with bits and pieces of their personal belongings scattered throughout in no cohesive or practical manner whatsoever. There was a painting on the wall, one of the few Mingi had convinced Hongjoong to actually hang up, but other than that the walls were bare. 

Seonghwa, who'd never struck Hongjoong as anything other than pristine and well put together-- stood out like a sore thumb. 

This time though, he didn't look quite as distressed about the mess as the last two, so Hongjoong counted that as a win. 

"Mingi's not home?" Seonghwa asked him as they stepped in, the door closing behind them. Hongjoong shook his head. 

"He has class tonight," he explained, "We can work for as long as you want; he'll be home late." 

It was roughly six in the evening; the sun had yet to properly set. Bits of faded blue light filtered in through the window, giving the apartment-- and Seonghwa himself -- an eerie glow. Here, standing in the middle of his apartment's makeshift living area, he looked like something out of a fantasy novel. Long hair in his eyes, white shirt and plain black jeans, shifting from foot to foot like he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself-- Hongjoong ached. He ached all over. 

"Okay." Seonghwa's voice startled him out of his trance-like state. He blinked away the awe that might have invaded his gaze and smiled up at the elder. 

"Shall we?" 

Seonghwa nodded, and Hongjoong led him to the mic standing at the foot of his bed. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Hongjoong's not an awkward person. Not immediately, at least; not unprovoked. The thing about Seonghwa was that his personality triggered Hongjoong's primal instincts to  _ be  _ awkward, which made the first fifteen to twenty minutes they spent together the most excruciatingly uncomfortable minutes of Hongjoong's lifetime. 

Hopefully this would stop soon, because Hongjoong was honestly getting tired of waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat cringing at himself for whatever awkward ass thing he'd said or done with Seonghwa the evening prior--

"Hongjoong?" 

Seonghwa was nudging at the corner of one of his canvases thrown on the floor, hesitant but curious, looking up at Hongjoong with bright doe eyes. Hongjoong could write poems about his eyes, seriously--

"Eh?" he blurted, startled. 

Seonghwa smirked, but it wasn't smug; it was bemused, fond, even-- "I just asked if this was a new one?" Again he nudged the canvas, this time tugging on it more intently so Hongjoong could see which one he was referring to. It was the aurora borealis painting, the one with glitter on it that Mingi had almost cried over after Hongjoong told him his song had inspired it. 

"Yeah," Hongjoong told him. "It's inspired by a song Mingi wrote," he explained as he got closer to Seonghwa to peer at the painting over his shoulder. "It's called Aurora."

"The painting?" Seonghwa wondered, like a confused puppy, glancing at Hongjoong through his eyelashes, and Hongjoong shook his head, smiling. 

"His song," he said, "but the painting too, I guess. I don't really name them."

"Why not?"

Hongjoong shrugged. "I do them for fun," he explained, "I don't really pay them much mind other than when I'm doing them. And even then, it's..." Seonghwa was looking at him so intently it was starting to make Hongjoong's skin itch anxiously. He blinked rapidly and shrugged again, having lost his train of thought staring into Seonghwa's warm gaze. "It's no big deal," he finished with.

"Why not?" Seonghwa wondered, not in the slightest bit reproachful, just curious. 

"I think I want to focus on music for now," he said, though now that Seonghwa mentioned it, he was not quite sure. He loved painting almost as much as he loved music, but when it came to making a living out of it, art had never been in the picture. 

He hummed. Huh. He guessed he and Seonghwa were similar, in that way.

"It's very beautiful." Seonghwa told him. He had a way of saying things that made Hongjoong want to believe him wholeheartedly. "Would you ever do commissions?" 

Hongjoong shook his head. "Mingi keeps insisting I do but--" a shrug, sheepish. "I do it for fun." Truth was he really didn't think his art could be worth much. 

"Shame," Seonghwa pouted, placing the canvas back into its corner with the rest of its friends. Hongjoong frowned. "I was going to ask you for one." 

Hongjoong raised his brows, pleasantly surprised. "Oh?" 

Seonghwa nodded. Smiled. Hongjoong felt his insides ripple warmly. Like he was being tickled. "Yeah."

"Well," Hongjoong shifted from one foot to another, "I could make an exception for you."

Whatever it was underlying that statement made Seonghwa blush, for some reason, and it wasn't until later that night, when Hongjoong had blared both eyes open in the middle of the night that he realized how flirty he'd been to say that. 

A moment of silence, just a brief pause, then, "So uhm," Seonghwa began, "how do we start?" 

Hongjoong got behind his keyboard and nudged the stool next to it toward Seonghwa in an unspoken beckoning for him to take a seat. Seonghwa went, and Hongjoong played a couple chords on the keys just to get used to the feeling of them under his hands. 

"Okay," Hongjoong cleared his throat. Seonghwa blinked up at him with childish intrigue. "Do you remember the melody you sang in the shower, or should I play the recording again?"

Seonghwa's face went red again, to Hongjoong's amusement. "God, please dont. I think I remember it." Hongjoong chuckled.  _ Okay _ , he muttered, raising his hands in surrender, and Seonghwa began to hum the melody for him, voice velvety sweet. Like warm honey. 

Hongjoong wondered what must have shown on his face, to have Seonghwa look at him like that. Eyes twinkling, lips slightly parted, eyebrows tipped a little high into his forehead like he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. 

It was there for a moment, and then it was gone, replaced by a shy smile and gentle rose cheeks. "What?" he wondered, and Hongjoong shrugged.

"You have a very beautiful voice, is all," he hummed, voice low, genuinely awed. Seonghwa bowed his head. 

"Thank you."

Hongjoong smiled down at the piano, jamming down a few keys just to shake off whatever tension had crawled up on them for a second there. "Alright," he exhaled, "so something like--" he teased at some keys, tentative, all while flicking his gaze up at Seonghwa to gauge his expression, "this?" 

Seonghwa nodded. "Yeah." 

"It's pretty," Hongjoong mused, reaching up to tap the side of his finger on his top lip. "We could go for pretty."

"Pretty?" 

Hongjoong played some other variations of the same melody to get the engines in his head running and nodded, "Yup."

"What does that mean?" 

"Like you know how some songs are sad, or good, or, I don't know... great, or bangers. This one's pretty." 

Seonghwa's lips were curling upward in a dorky smile Hongjoong smiled back to. "Oh... kay..." 

He still didn't get it, probably. Hongjoong chuckled. "Have you heard Bloom by The Paper Kites?" he asked him, and Seonghwa shook his head. "Anything by Sleeping At Last? Literally all their songs are pretty." Seonghwa shook his head again. Hongjoong sighed. "Well listen to them sometime. They give me the same vibe." Hongjoong leaned back and closed his eyes and hummed the melody to himself for a little while. Felt it out in his mouth, the tip of his tongue as it left him. "I want this song to be the prettiest thing you've ever heard in your life, Seonghwa."

Seonghwa was already staring when Hongjoong turned to look at him, gone. 

"I'm sure it will be," he told Hongjoong, and smiled. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Almost three hours later Mingi showed up with tired eyes and a bag of food in his hands. 

"Honey, I'm home!" He called out, and Hongjoong rolled his eyes where he'd been curled over the keys, Seonghwa perched over his shoulder like a cat. "Oh, Seonghwa's here. Hi, hyung!" 

Seonghwa inched away from Hongjoong's shoulder to greet him with a smile. "Hey," he said. "How was class?" 

Mingi's eyebrow twitched upward at this. Hongjoong could see the mental gears spinning as he drew the conclusion that Hongjoong must have told him about his schedule. "It was... fine." He walked over to them and tilted his head down at Hongjoong, wondering, "Wanna eat? I brought us dinner." Slightly, his gaze flickered over to Seonghwa before it went to Hongjoong, then back at Seonghwa. "I didn't know you were gonna be here still, but I brought a lot of food, so we can share if you want."

"Oh."

"It's late. And knowing this hyung, he probably didn't even offer you anything to eat since you started working." He gave Hongjoong a knowing look that Hongjoong scoffed at, offended at being called out like that. 

It made Seonghwa laugh, though. "He's diligent," he said as a way of agreement, and Hongjoong gaped at him before biting down on his lip, embarrassed. 

"I'm so sorry," he said, "I didn't even realize it was so late already."

"I don't mind," Seonghwa reassured him. Hongjoong felt his hand on his arm for a second before it was gone. Like it never even happened. Mingi noticed though, if his curious eyebrow twitch was any indication. Hongjoong feigned nonchalance. 

"Let's eat, then," Mingi gestured at the kitchen behind them. He fondled the underside of the keyboard for the connection cable and unplugged it in one swift flick of his wrist. "Come on." He nodded his head in the direction of the living room as he went. 

Hongjoong sighed. He stood from the stool Seonghwa had offered him after he heard Hongjoong pop his neck a little too dangerously and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back. Grunting, he rolled out the kinks in his shoulders before following Mingi into the kitchen, pausing when he noticed Seonghwa hadn't moved. 

Hongjoong saw him blink down at him, dazed, before he seemed to gather himself and shake it out of his system. Hongjoong laughed, brows furrowing as he squeezed Seonghwa's arm. "You good there?" 

Seonghwa's cheeks flushed under his attention. "Yeah," he said. Hongjoong raised a dubious brow as Seonghwa pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Yeah, just. Tired."

"I'm sorry," Hongjoong was going to start sounding like a broken record soon. "I usually zone out when I'm composing." 

"It's fine, Hongjoong," Seonghwa smiled. He walked backward toward the kitchen and Hongjoong followed. "I enjoyed myself." 

"You did?" Seonghwa hadn't really done much other than pick between the new melodies Hongjoong had created and occasionally suggest a new humming tune himself. He's spent most of their time looming over Hongjoong's shoulder as he played or watching him intently from his spot at the edge of Hongjoong's bed. "I thought you would get bored." 

"I like watching you play," he confessed. From the kitchen, Mingi's ears surely were perking up with interest. "It's funny." 

That had-- not been what Hongjoong had expected him to say. Not Mingi either, for he laughed, obvious enough that he wasn't even able to mask it as a cough. Hongjoong scoffed. 

"He makes the funniest faces when he's concentrated, hyung," Mingi gossipped. Seonghwa took a seat in one of the stools before their tiny kitchen bar, chuckling along. 

Hongjoong pouted. He walked over behind Mingi and pinched his side, making him squeal as he unpacked the takeout food he'd bought. "Watch your mouth, kid," he threatened, but Mingi wasn't alarmed. Instead he made kissy faces at the elder. 

"It's cute," Seonghwa muttered, and Hongjoong felt his heart leap up to his throat, hand frozen in its way for the chopsticks. From his right, Mingi glanced at him and gave him a wink, grin cheshire wide. Hongjoong cursed himself inwardly, feeling himself tip back on his ass like someone (read: Seonghwa) had pulled a rug from under his feet. 

"Hyung's adorable," Mingi teased. Hongjoong, still in his stricken stupor, didn't even bother to swat his hand away when it reached up to pet him on the head. 

"You like fried chicken, hyung?" Mingi turned toward the kitchen bar with three plates in one hand and the box of chicken in the other. 

Seonghwa perked up like a puppy who'd just seen a squirrel, squealing, "Chicken!" in a high pitched, child-like voice Hongjoong had never heard him use before in his presence. Taken aback, Hongjoong stood before he sat down in front of him, staring at Seonghwa with a feigned look of disgust on his face. Mingi remained equally apalled, hand outstretched toward Seonghwa's plate.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue, smirking. "We're cutting down your portions just for that," he joked, still cringing where he made a show of taking away a chicken piece Mingi had placed on his plate. Halfway through a pout and a smirk, Seonghwa chuckled, hiding his face behind his hand. 

Mingi laughed. "Aegyo won't get you anywhere in this house, hyung."

Seonghwa sighed melodramatically, as if disappointed. "Noted," he muttered, and Hongjoong giggled at his expense, returning the piece of chicken he'd stolen. 

"I'll let it go this once," Hongjoong smiled, and Seonghwa mirrored it. "Just because you're new here and didn't know better."

" _ Right _ ," Mingi drawled, knowing eyes cast downward into his food, avoiding Hongjoong's murdering gaze at all costs. After being pinched on the thigh for his mischief, Mingi took a bite from his chicken, wondering with an easy going smile, "How's the song coming up?"

Hongjoong gave Seonghwa a look, and the man shrugged. "It's..." Mingi chewed on his food while he waited, "It's pretty? so far," Seonghwa said in the end, eyes locked with Hongjoong's. 

Mingi hummed. "Ooh. Pretty. Hongjoong rarely does those." Seonghwa seemed intrigued. Confused, he waited for Mingi to elaborate. "I mean, his lyrics always make you think it'll turn out being a pretty song, but they rarely ever do."

Hongjoong mulled over that for a while. "Really?" He never wrote lyrics with the thought of a pretty song in mind. 

Mingi shrugged. "You write in metaphors most of the time so." 

Hongjoong stared. "Huh." 

Seonghwa looked at the two of them with something akin to fondness, smiling. "What makes a song pretty?"

Mingi and Hongjoong faced Seonghwa with questioning looks. "Hm?"

"I just--" Seonghwa shrugged. "Didn't really understand the concept."

Mingi frowned. "You've never heard Sleeping at Last?" Seonghwa and Hongjoong shook their heads in tandem. "Uncultured, I see."

It startled a bright laugh out of Hongjoong. 

"Take Me by Miso?" Another shake of his head. Mingi threw his head back in outrage. "You gay?" 

Seonghwa blinked. "Pardon?"

"Or into anime?" Mingi shrugged, waving a hand about, "I figured nowadays people aren't just one or the other. Anyway-- you ever watched this gay anime called Given?" 

"I think Wooyoung was watching it, why?" 

"The ending song, Marutsuke," Mingi tried, practically crossing his fingers now begging Seonghwa to understand, to hop onto his same wavelength, but Seonghwa only shrugged, shaking his head once more. Mingi deflated like a balloon. "Shame. Oh well." He turned on Hongjoong, saying, "Please educate this young man. The country's counting on you."

"Will do, sargeant," Hongjoong chuckled, patting Mingi on the shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he told Seonghwa, "I'll show it to you after dinner." 

"Is he staying over?" Mingi wondered, and if it wasn't for the way it sounded like the inquiry had left him more out of reflex than anything else, Hongjoong would have whacked him upside the head. He looked up at Seonghwa through his eyelashes and then giggled. "We only have that raggedy ass couch, but you're also welcome to cuddle up in Joongie-hyung's bed."

Hongjoong did whack him in the head for that one. Seonghwa flushed a light shade of pink. "Ow-! I'm kidding! Dude--" 

"Yah! You punk ass," Hongjoong shoved him away, unable to keep himself from smirking. He rolled his eyes and turned to Seonghwa. "He's being stupid, but you are welcome to stay over if you want. We don't mind." 

"Oh,  _ you _ sure as hell don't-- ow!" 

Seonghwa's giggle was wary. "Thanks," he drawled, smiling at them gratefully. "But I have an early class tomorrow, so."

"Ah," Mingi sighed. "Shame." 

Hongjoong bowed his head and glared at him the best he could without Seonghwa noticing. Mingi only smiled. The fucker. 

"Yeah." 

Hongjoong cleared his throat. "Well, you're welcome stay if we ever work this late into the night again." He didn’t miss the way Mingi sniggered down at his food, always the salacious one stirring up shit in their friend group. Hongjoong ignored him. 

"Thanks." Seonghwa smiled, sheepish. 

Hongjoong shrugged. "Sure." 

Mingi was going to get his ass handed over once Seonghwa left, that was for sure. 

“Have you written any lyrics yet?” 

“Not really,” Seonghwa answered, appearing shy all of a sudden. "Uhm. I have some bits and pieces I write but it's mostly nonsense." Hongjoong perked up at this, showing all the interest Seonghwa lacked. Next to him, Mingi hummed.

"I see. Like stuff you write on the corners of your textbooks in the middle of class?" The way Mingi was smirking told Hongjoong he did that himself too. In fact, Hongjoong wouldn't be surprised if that was how he'd written every song so far. 

Seonghwa nodded. "Yeah." His smile was sheepish, a little bit more a grimace than an actual smile, with how his eyebrows scrunched up, but Hongjoong found it endearing, his heart clenching. He gestured at Hongjoong when he said, "Maybe tomorrow I'll show them to you." 

“I’ll anticipate it.” Hongjoong made sure to give him his most reassuring smile, unaware of how it melted Seonghwa to his bones. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


“I’m really sorry for Mingi’s overall existence,” Hongjoong apologized as he walked Seonghwa down to his car. Because he was a gentleman like that. He totally wasn’t stalling because he wanted to spend more time with Seonghwa despite them having spent practically the whole evening together. How silly was that? Hongjoong had only known him for half a month, there was absolutely no reason for him to be this smitten, this eager to be with the other. Hongjoong knew this, and yet his heart knew what it wanted, and Hongjoong had made a vow to himself not to silence it whenever it had something to say. It didn’t mean he liked to admit it, but deep down, to himself, he knew that if he stared into Seonghwa’s eyes a little too long, it wasn’t because of an objective awareness of the man’s beauty. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t show on his face. 

“Ah, it’s okay, really,” Seonghwa said. He kept looking down at his shoes the whole way down to the first floor, only looking up to quickly steal a glance from Hongjoong once they’d stopped in front of his Corolla. It was quiet for about a minute, Hongjoong teetering on the balls of his feet and Seonghwa shifting his feet about underneath him like he was silently begging the ground to swallow him whole. 

Then, in a rare moment of lucidness, those that only seemed to come to Hongjoong when he needed them the most, Hongjoong perked up. “The song,” he blurted out, making Seonghwa raise a curious eyebrow at him, head tipped to the side in a silent inquiry. Hongjoong unpocketed his phone and began scrolling through his songs list in search of Marutsuke. “I’ll show it to you before I forget.”

“Oh.”

Hitting play, Hongjoong forgoed beckoning the other closer, opting instead to make a move himself and step into Seonghwa’s space. The elder straightened up, but not defensively. Hongjoong took it as a good sign and stayed in place as he raised his phone up to their ears. Seonghwa had to lean down a little due to Hongjoong’s height (or lack thereof) which made them tip further into each other’s space. 

Here, surrounded by Mafuyu’s soft vocals and strong guitar strums, gently embraced by the warmth Seonghwa emanated, Hongjoong felt safe. Cocooned, in a way. Glancing up, he found Seonghwa with his eyes closed, as if basking in it too. It made something clench in his gut, twist in such a deliciously painful way. It made Hongjoong ache to lean in, reach for the back of Seonghwa’s neck and just-- 

“It’s beautiful,” Seonghwa confessed once the song was nearing its end. Hongjoong nodded, gone. 

“It’s on the edge of pretty,” he admitted, “bordering on beautiful.” Hongjoong retrieved his phone and watched Seonghwa straighten up a little. He was still somewhat tipped in Hongjoong’s direction though, like a plant leaning toward sunlight. “It’s mostly the lyrics that are pretty.” 

“I’ll read them when I get home.” Seonghwa wouldn’t stop looking at him. It made Hongjoong wonder why-- what was there in his gaze that made Seonghwa unable to look away? In a brief moment of panic, Hongjoong feared he’d been caught. Feeling bare under the elder’s eyes, he cleared his throat and moved to take a step back, startling when Seonghwa’s hand flew up to catch him by the elbow. 

“Hyung?” he muttered, and his voice must have slapped the other into reality, because Seonghwa took his hand back like Hongjoong had shocked him. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong reassured him. His heart was beating loud in his ears. He could barely hear his own words over the roar of his blood. Shit. Shit. This could be it-- Seonghwa was still looking at him with those eyes, like he wanted to keep Hongjoong to himself but wasn’t sure if he knew how, or if he was even allowed to. But Hongjoong could tell him, couldn’t he? If anything, he could show him, he could-- he could just get on the tip of his toes, let their noses brush, revel in the sharp intake of Seonghwa’s breath moments before Hongjoong’s lips touched his own--

“Seonghwa hyung!”

Hongjoong jumped back from Seonghwa with such impulse he’s certain Seonghwa must have pushed him. Astonished by his own stupor, Hongjoong pushed his hands into his face, taking in a deep breath before turning around and facing Mingi, who had run down to them to give Seonghwa his phone that he’d forgotten in their apartment upstairs. Hongjoong wasn’t obtuse enough so as to miss the smug way Mingi’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, knowing for sure what he’d just barged into, but he pretended he was, perhaps for Seonghwa’s sake, if not his own. 

“A-ah, thank you, Mingi-ssi,” Seonghwa stammered, visibly flustered. His ears were red, as was the back of his neck. Hongjoong wanted to feel the heat of his skin under his palms. 

“Sure,” Mingi chuckled. He met Hongjoong’s gaze and raised a fauxly sophisticated brow. This asshole and his sophic complex. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat and smiled at the both of them, albeit shyly. Hongjoong didn’t dare look him in the eye as he waved him goodbye. 

Mingi’s arm draped across his shoulders as Seonghwa drove off. “You sure are quick, hyung.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Hongjoong shoved his arm off and stormed to their apartment. 

  
  
  


-


	2. Irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa loses his shit. Yeosang is a supportive friend, and Wooyoung does his magic to make it all work for him in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK A LOT LONGER THAN IT SHOULD'VE AND IT'S A LOT SHORTER THAN I WANTED BUT PLS TAKE IT FROM ME   
> College has been HARD so I haven't had time to spare to write this but here!! Have it!! It will probably have one more chapter and then it's finished, I'll do my best to write it before the year ends LMAOOO  
> sorry for the wait, enjoy !

“I can feel you stressing out from here, hyung.” 

Yeosang was padding in his house slippers, slipping from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee in his hands and a bemused smirk on his lips. Seonghwa knew it was there even though he couldn’t exactly see it-- he could hear it in his voice. That cocky tilt in his tone that he used whenever Seonghwa was being stupid. 

Seonghwa took the mug Yeosang offered as he curled up on the couch next to him, tucking his feet under Seonghwa’s thighs. Seonghwa let him, even though his toes were cold. 

“You’re tainting your aura,” Yeosang told him, hiding his grin behind his mug as he took a sip of his coffee, and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. 

“My aura is perfectly  _ fine-- _ ”

“It’s so murky it’s practically black hyung. Relax. You’re acting like you ran over Hongjoong’s cat.” He wiggled his toes under Seonghwa’s thighs just to bug him. 

“I might as well have,” Seonghwa groaned. The sudden flash of Hongjoong’s lips brushing his made him shiver. Christ. That really happened, hadn’t it? And his first instinct right afterward was to run. Literally  _ flee  _ from Hongjoong’s presence like a cowering dog. 

Embarrassment caught up to him again and he whined, covering his face with a hand while undergoing a full body contortion. Yeosang laughed at his expense, always the supportive friend between them two. Seonghwa felt him squeeze his shoulder, chuckling softly. When he spoke, he sounded fond. 

“Ah, hyungie hyung,” he drawled, inching closer and setting his mug on the ground so he could pull Seonghwa into his chest. He swayed them both side to side, like one would to calm a wailing toddler, and Seonghwa fake sobbed, feeling pathetic. “It’s okay. He probably won’t remember it tomorrow--”

“That’s not exactly reassuring!” Seonghwa groaned, burying his face deeper into Yeosang’s chest and drawing comfort from the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Sighing, he cursed, damning his ineptitude. “He probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“A cute idiot, if he tried to kiss you,” Yeosang rebutted. He leaned back from Seonghwa to peek at his grimacing face and laughed. “I think you should just get over it and text him.” 

“I’d rather eat my left foot.”

“Then perish,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “He’s probably as embarrassed as you are right now.”

“Doubt it.” Hongjoong had seemed so sure of himself, practically carrying the weight of their previous interactions on his shoulders because Seonghwa was too socially inept to hold a proper conversation with someone he found attractive. 

“Oh, grow a pair, would you?” Yeosang pushed him off his chest with a gentle but firm shove that sobered him up. Yeosang’s eyes were brutally honest but just as kind. It was familiar to have that look directed at him, as much as it was daunting-- it’s the look Yeosang gave him when he was about to smack some truth into him. Seonghwa braced himself. 

“Hongjoong tried to kiss  _ you _ , not the other way around.” Seonghwa blinked, pouting. “Carry yourself with the confidence of a person people want to kiss.” 

Seonghwa paused, staring at Yeosang and pondering over his words for a moment before his own moronic disbelief won over. “What if I had something on my face and he was just trying to blow it away--”

At this Yeosang just got off the couch, coffee and all, and left the living room, unbothered by the fact that he’d just left Seonghwa alone mid-crisis. 

Seonghwa collapsed on the couch, forgetting about the mug balanced on his lap and spilling it all over the cushions. He yelped. “Fuck.” 

Just his luck, honestly. Fuck his life. 

  
  


-

  
  


Seonghwa was in the middle of lecture when Hongjoong texted him two days later. Nothing much, a completely innocuous  _ are you free tomorrow?  _

Which could mean anything, he knew, but the text still sent him into unbridled panic. He typed back a hysteric,  _ Ihve a testt o study for ssry _ before tossing his phone away like it had burned him. The student sitting next to him gave him a mildly vexed look, but otherwise his short lived breakdown had gone by unnoticed. Small mercies, he supposed.

He wouldn’t be able to tell you a thing about that lecture to save his life, having completely zoned out in his irrational imaginings of Hongjoong asking him to meet so he could make fun of him for ever having thought Hongjoong might have actually thought him attractive enough to want to kiss him--  _ oh my god dude, you had an eyelash on your cheek, I was just trying to blow it away. I wasn’t trying to like, jump you or anything, jesus christ, we’ve just met. _

Which, granted, sounded a little too out of character of Hongjoong to say, but Seonghwa  _ had  _ only known him for a little over two weeks and Seonghwa was notoriously exceptional at missing typical social cues, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he’d simply misinterpreted Hongjoong’s intentions after all. Like, why would Hongjoong even have wanted to kiss him? The timing hadn’t been right for it, a little too rushed, too soon too--

“Seonghwa-ssi?” 

Seonghwa startled so high in his seat his knee almost broke through the desk. Cursing inwardly, he winced up at his professor, questioning. The man was standing awkwardly near the doorway, laptop under his arm and thermos cradled into his chest like a baby. On his nose, his glasses twitched as he frowned over at Seonghwa.

“I’d tell you you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but I’m afraid there’s another class coming up in a couple minutes--”

It suddenly dawned on Seonghwa that he was alone in the classroom save for the professor and a few stray pens left on the ground, and he stood, bewildered. “Yes,” he said, nodding as he gathered his belongings, hasty and twitchy from spending too long antagonizing himself with his thoughts. “Right. I’ll leave with you, sorry.”

His professor only smiled, albeit awkwardly, and said, “Don’t worry, I saw you were a little out of it during class. Everything alright? Any way I can help?”

_ If you could find me a pair of balls I’d very much appreciate it sir-- _

“A-ah, I’m alright, thank you, sir.” He wasn’t quite to the point where he’d willingly ask his anatomy professor for advice in his love life, though he sure was close.

“I just forgot to take my coffee this morning,” he said, like a liar. “I should be fine afterwards.”

His professor laughed softly and gave him a pat in the back that Seonghwa almost leaned into, always a sucker for comfort when he was sensitive like this. “Alright,” he said, voice kind, “have a good day, Seonghwa.”

“Thank you sir,” Seonghwa bowed slightly, “you too.”

He held his breath and only let it go once his professor was out of sight. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


“You’re being stupid,” Wooyoung snickered after taking a peek at Seonghwa’s phone on the kitchen counter, where it had pinged with another notification from Hongjoong’s part-- a  _ wb thursday ??? _ that Seonghwa didn’t even bother to look at lest it send him into an other way frenzy and he types back something stupid like  _ I can’t, I need to babysit my neighbour’s hamster.  _ And then he’d completely give himself away, and Hongjoong would know (though he probably already knew anyway) and he’ll be disappointed, or weirded out, or worse, think Seonghwa was offended by his advances from the other night--

“Like, I’ve seen you open a bottle of mustard and almost down it thinking it was orange juice after a hangover, but this is a different level of stupid.”

Seonghwa gave him a look and Wooyoung only stared right back, daring, until eventually Seonghwa gave up and slouched over the sink where he was washing the dishes. Wooyoung had come over for dinner, per Yeosang’s invite and to Seonghwa’s eternal dismay. He was currently on wiping duty, though he’d stopped wiping the dishes dry after Hongjoong’s text messages had proven too distracting for him to continue.

“Mind your business, Wooyoung-ah.” He really wasn’t in the mood for this, wasn’t ready for Wooyoung to start pointing fingers at his browning aura too.

“Hyung, I’m trying to help you here.” Wooyoung sounded genuinely hurt by the harsh words. Seonghwa didn’t mean to snap, but he was starting to get tired of people calling him out for overthinking almost as much as he was tired of overthinking in itself. “Trust me, according to Mingi the guy’s whipped for you already, so just grow a pair and text him back.”

“I will not,” Seonghwa refused to. 

Wooyoung twirled the rag in his hands and settled it over his shoulder with a swing. “Oh, you will.” Seonghwa was too busy scrubbing the remains of tteokbokki from a plate, hands full of suds, to stop Wooyoung from unlocking his phone (because he had the dumbest password in the history of passwords and was enough of a dumbass to forget ever changing it) and swiping his thumbs over the screen as he responded Hongjoong’s text for him. 

By the time Seonghwa managed to yank the thing out of Wooyoung’s hands, the message had already been sent and Wooyoung was grinning triumphantly up at him, unbothered by the suds Seonghwa had left on his cheeks from their struggle. 

“There,” he said, handing Seonghwa the rag so he could wipe down his hands and check out the message for himself, “you have a date on friday.”

Blanching, Seonghwa picked up the phone.

_ I have a gig at the cafe on friday, come watch me sing?  _

Seonghwa was already reaching his hands around Wooyoung’s neck to choke him when Hongjoong’s answer came in, the ping making him freeze in his tracks. Reluctantly he sneaked a glance down back at the counter, and found himself blinking down at it, stoic, as Wooyoung hollered and wooped.

“ _ See _ ! I fricking told you he liked you! Goddamn, whatever would you be without me, hyung, wher _ ever _ would you be huh? Just tell me I’m your favorite and go, come on--”

Wooyoung’s antics had the audacity to be as convenient as they were mischievous, which meant that despite the fact that they brought Seonghwa close enough to the edge of panic right after they’d been pulled off, once they finally worked out just the way Wooyoung wanted, Seonghwa got an eerie emotional stillness. A sense of relief, almost. 

Befriending this little shit was something akin to riding a suicidal roller coaster with deadly hoop gaps, but it was also addictive in a way Seonghwa would never admit.

Seonghwa could only stare, open mouthed, as Wooyoung patted him on the back and then pulled him in to kiss his cheek. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered before he slid away into Yeosang’s room to pester him. 

Alone, Seonghwa read the text to himself once more, just to make sure it was real. 

_ I get to ?! Absolutely ! Dinner on me after ;) _

  
  
  
  


-

  
  


Seonghwa had never been this anxious before a performance. Not even when he’d been thrown on stage for the first time by Yeosang and Wooyoung’s pushy hands. Maybe it was because back then Hongjoong had never been in the audience, never been there to see Seonghwa when he thought himself the most vulnerable-- the most open. Willing. 

His hands were sweating so much he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d eventually start dripping. Christ, he was disgusting--

“Your aura,” Yeosang whispered into his ear, making him jump. With a chuckle, Yeosang curled himself into Seonghwa’s side, clinging to his arm and shaking him a little. “Is such a murky color. Relax, you’ll do amazing, as always.”

“That’s not my worry,” he confessed, taking a shaky breath and tuning into Yeosang’s steady heart beating into his arm. 

Yeosang took one of his hands and squeezed it. Seonghwa felt him bury his nose into his shoulder and sighed. “Just breathe,” he said, and Seonghwa did. “It’ll all be fine.”

He was just starting to find his bearings when he caught Wooyoung’s laugh coming in from somewhere near the entrance, and his stomach suddenly shrunk into a pea. He held his breath and clung to Yeosang’s hand like a lifeline, refusing to let go even when Yeosang stepped away from him to take Wooyoung into a hug. San and Hongoong were right behind him. Seonghwa could make them out in the short moments where his vision wasn’t zeroing in and almost going black. He vaguely saw San tucking Yeosang under his arm, felt Yeosang's hand slip from his, and like he’d just lost his anchor, Seonghwa felt himself float away. 

Hongjoong’s voice brought him back to shore. 

“Hey,” he said, soft spoken, something tender in his tone that Seonghwa hadn’t ever noticed the previous times they’d spoken. It made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa breathed out, smiling, shaking himself out of it. He caught Wooyoung giving him a  _ look _ atop Hongjoong’s shoulder and straightened up considerably, Yeosang’s words from a couple days ago echoing in his head.  _ Carry yourself with the confidence of a person people want to kiss.  _

Alright. 

Fake it ‘till you make it, he supposed. 

“How are you?” he wondered, easy. Hongjoong twitched a little, so unlike him Seonghwa almost felt relief-- he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. 

“I’m alright.” Hongjoong shrugged, fiddling with the frayed ends of his jean jacket. It seemed like something he’d likely revamped himself-- “You?”

Seonghwa’s gaze had fixed itself on the words embroidered on the collar of Hongjoong’s jacket--  _ HALA HALA.  _ It said a lot about Seonghwa’s state of mind right then, that his mind took hold of the first thing presented to him as a distraction from his Hongjoong-riddled nerves and latched onto it like a vice. 

“I’m alright,” he drawled, feeling himself float a little closer to Hongjoong as if suspended on a pendulum, drawn into the other’s orbit as if by gravitational pull. It had to be some astral sort of shit that made him reach out with ease and thumb lightly along the collar of Hongjoong’s jean jacket, tracing over the big bold letters curiously. “A little anxious,” he confessed, oblivious to the inner turmoil he gave Hongjoong upon casual intrusion of his personal space. 

Hongjoong stammered something Seonghwa had to do a double take to fully make out.  _ D-don’t be, I’m sure you’ll do amazing.  _ Suddenly sheepish, Seonghwa stepped back, pocketing his hands so they wouldn’t go about doing all sorts of crazy. 

“Thank you,” he said, earnest. He cleared his throat, feeling his face turn almost as red as Hongjoong’s hair. “Sorry--” he stuttered, letting out an awkward giggle, “I just-- I like your jacket. Did you make it?”

Hongjoong laughed, tucking his head and fumbling with the edges of his jacket as if shy. “I did! Thank you.” He pursed his lips in a way that made Seonghwa wonder if he was holding back a smile. 

“The uhm-- the letters,” Seonghwa mumbled. Christ, his face felt hot. Was it healthy to be this embarrassed over something so silly? “Do they stand for something?”

“Mhmm.” Hongjoong traced the  _ HALA HALA _ embroidery with his own smaller hand, fingers short and jeweled with rings on the index and middle digits. Seonghwa thought of taking his hand to see just how it would feel to hold it. Would his skin be as soft as it looked? “It means Hearts Awakened, Live Alive,” Hongjoong told him, effectively yanking him from his head. Deep breaths, Seonghwa, keep it together. 

“That’s… interesting,” Seonghwa drawled, swaying a little and allowing himself a nervous smile. Hongjoong mirrored it. His eyes rolled back slightly, eyebrow twitching up as if to feign nonchalance, or coolness, which Seonghwa fell completely for despite not believing an ounce of it as real. 

“It’s from one of Mingi’s songs,” he explained, tugging at the long frayed sleeves again. They swam over his hands so only the tips of his fingers peeked at the ends, and it was so endearing Seonghwa almost cooed. “This is-- it’s actually Mingi’s jacket--” Hongjoong cleared his throat, embarrassment very clear on his face now despite how he’d tried to hide it. Seonghwa snorted. “‘S why it’s so big on me.”

“It’s cute,” Seonghwa heard himself saying. With whose permission he’s not sure. Hongjoong froze under Seonghwa’s fond gaze, much like he had earlier that week when Seonghwa had called him cute while they’d been about to have dinner. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t intended for Hongjoong to hear. A part of him, the cockier side, the more confident one, had mumbled it loud enough on purpose, though he would never admit it if you asked. He’d be too shy to. 

Hongjoong opened his mouth as if to say something, eyes suddenly full of so many emotions, but before Seonghwa could find out what he had to say, someone spoke from the makeshift stage at the end of the coffee shop, announcing Seonghwa through the mic. 

Seonghwa sighed through his nose, shrugging a shoulder. “I uhm--” He took a step back, unsure of whether he should stay or just wait ‘til after his performance to hear what Hongjoong wanted to tell him. “I--”

“Go,” Hongjoong urged, waving him along. He appeared almost disappointed, if a little relieved, and Seonghwa worried he’d never get to know the words Hongjoong’d intended Seonghwa to hear. Hongjoong’s smile, though, made him realize that maybe, those words didn’t matter as much anyway. Hongjoong was here, and he wasn’t clowning Seonghwa for how he’d ran away from him days before. Hongjoong was smiling at him, telling him  _ good luck, you’ll do great!  _ with one of the most sincere grins Seonghwa had ever been given, and suddenly Seonghwa found that confidence buried deep within him under all that embarrassment. He plucked it out with his bare hands and walked backward onto the stage, smiling back at Hongjoong and then at Wooyoung and Yeosang behind him. They were both giving him thumbs up and grinning so wide it made Seonghwa’s chest hurt a little, in the best of ways. 

“Go, best friend!!” San cheered from the audience, hands cupped around his mouth, and Seonghwa chuckled as he settled on the stool behind the mic. Clearing his throat, he reached for the mic stand with loose fingers.

“Hello,” he greeted, smiling shyly. It was his charm, he supposed. “I’m Park Seonghwa. I’ll be singing an old song for you guys tonight.” The few people in the audience wooped and clapped to cheer him on, making whatever nerves Seonghwa had felt about his performance fade away. Sure of himself now, he met Yeosang’s warm gaze and smiled. Glancing over at Yuqi behind the counter, in charge of the speakers of the place, he nodded. Yuqi gave him a thumbs up and in moments the fingerstyle guitar tune started filling up the place as the song began to play. 

Seonghwa swayed along to the intro, taking in a slow breath and bracing himself before he began to sing. The song was in a key higher than what he was typically used to, but he hoped his deeper voice didn’t make it sound too off-putting. If the way Hongjoong’s mouth parted a little once he got to the chorus was of any indication, it wasn’t off-putting at all. 

He stumbled a bit through some words, not being fluent in english. Still, he didn’t let it hinder the flow of his singing and went along, reaching the first chorus and smiling around the familiarity of the tune. He’d had a friend in high school who’d had her One Direction phase and loved playing this song all the time-- the lyrics had stuck from how often he’d listened to it with her from back then, and he’d memorized them before singing tonight, but they somehow startled him again as he sang the second verse. It suddenly hit too close to home--

_ But I know, if I go now, if I leave, and I’m on my own tonight, I’ll never know the answer.  _ What would have happened if Seonghwa hadn’t run away that night? If Mingi hadn’t interrupted them, and Seonghwa would have gotten to know the taste of Hongjoong’s lips?  _ Midnight, doesn’t last forever. Dark turns to light.  _ Seonghwa met Hongjoong’s gaze across the room, heart stammering upon seeing those eyes,  _ I’m falling down, down, down, that’s why… _

_ I find your lips, so kissable. And our kiss, unmissable. Your fingertips, so touchable, and your eyes--  _ Seonghwa allowed himself a pause, hands cradling the mic as his head tipped sideways, stimulating the crowd, and Hongjoong, with the buildup--  _ Irresistible. _

_ Irresistible,  _ he sang, mouth moving along the words with a different kind of urgency now, like he needed the message to come across now more than ever, language barrier be damned; he hoped his eyes told Hongjoong how he felt. The awful reminder of Hongjoong's stuttering hands and hesitant words when they'd greeted each other earlier made him sing a little desperately. He needed Hongjoong to know he'd wanted that kiss to happen as much as he had--

_ It’s in your lips,  _ Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s gaze firmly, eyes earnest and voice sure,  _ and in your kiss. It’s in your touch, in your fingertips. And it’s in all the things and other things that make you who you are, and your eyes… Irresistible. _

Repeating the chorus one more time, reaching the end of the song, he swayed along, grinning when the crowd had begun clapping along upon San and Wooyoung’s encouragement. Hongjoong wasn’t clapping, Seonghwa realized. Though, as he sang the final words, he found it didn’t matter. Hongjoong looked like he was holding his breath and only let it out once the guitar tunes of the song faded into the background, seemingly in a trance that was broken by the crowd clapping for Seonghwa as he got off the stage, bowing as he went. 

Wooyoung was the first to congratulate him-- all but jumping into his arms and squealing like an excited little puppy. Seonghwa held him, laughed, and spun him around, indulging him for a moment before he put him back on the floor. “That was so fucking  _ good _ , hyung!” he shook Seonghwa by the shoulders, grinning ear to ear, and Seonghwa felt himself flush pink from his kind words. “I  _ love  _ your voice!”

“I can’t believe you made a One Direction song sound good--” Yeosang was immediately headlocked by San for this, making Seonghwa laugh. 

“How dare you, One Direction’s discography is one of the best in the  _ century-- _ ” Then he noogied Yeosang so hard Seonghwa was certain San had squished the one little brain cell the guy had left. 

He’d been too busy indulging in the pain Yeosang was enduring he startled when Hongjoong touched his arm, near the elbow, to catch his attention. Seonghwa faced him and found Hongjoong with flushed cheeks and eyes threatening to boil over with emotion. He breathed like they were trying to suffocate him from the inside. It made Seonghwa put his hand atop Hongjoong’s on his arm, perhaps to ease him into whatever it was he wanted to say. He watched Hongjoong bite into his lip, inwardly debating something, before he sighed and said, “Can we go for a walk?” 

It was innocent enough for Seonghwa to instantly nod, saying  _ yeah, sure,  _ without so much as a second thought. Curling his hand around Hongjoong’s bejewelled one, he faced the others and told them they’d be back in a couple minutes. Seonghwa didn’t miss Wooyoung’s smug wink as he tugged Hongjoong toward the exit. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Somewhere along the trek to the door, he’d expected Hongjoong’s hand to fall from his, but instead the man eased his way between Seonghwa’s fingers, as if claiming him. Palm to palm, Seonghwa led them out into the cool night of Seoul. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Hongjoong ignored all the screaming voices in his head telling him he was going too far. Surely, he tugged Seonghwa’s hand behind his back to bring him closer as they walked to the intersection down from the coffee shop they’d been in. He felt emboldened by the words Seonghwa had sung. The voices be damned, Hongjoong knew when he was expected to read between the lines. 

“You did very well tonight,” he told him, smiling up and finding Seonghwa blinking down at him with slightly parted lips, as if awed. It made Hongjoong red in the face a little, that he might have caused that expression on his face. “You really have a lovely voice.”

For a moment Seonghwa only searched in his eyes for something Hongjoong hoped he could find, and then, “O-oh.” Sheepishly glancing away, down where his heels scratched at the pavement. “Thank you.”

Hongjoong squeezed his hand, still nestled against the small of his back, and leaned forward a little to see if Seonghwa would look back into his eyes. “Did you mean it?” he wondered, soft, slowing down as they approached the intersection. Cars drove past in front of them, a flurry of motion and sound. It all flew over Hongjoong’s head-- all he knew was Seonghwa next to him, flushed at the ears and the back of his neck. Like a child being caught doing mischief. Hongjoong squeezed his hand again when he didn’t say anything. 

“W-what do you mean?” Seonghwa dared to flicker his gaze up at him a second, before his will died. 

Hongjoong pursed his lips, fighting back a smirk. Bringing Seonghwa in by their joined hands, he leaned up to whisper in his ear, “ _ Irresistible, _ ” soft breath fanning Seonghwa’s sensitive skin, he shivered. Hongjoong fell back on his heels. The pedestrian light blinked white, but neither of them moved. Seonghwa was staring at him with startled twinkling eyes that Hongjoong chuckled at. “I took some English classes back in high school,” he confessed, raising an eyebrow when Seonghwa let out a seemingly disappointed sigh. “Sorry, does that not work out to your favor?”

Seonghwa huffed a laugh, lips quirking up into a smirk. A hooded flicker of his eyes on Hongjoong when he shook his head and said, “Too much to my favor.”

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Their walk eventually led them to an empty park somewhere nearby, open aired and chilly. Icy wind flew past them as Hongjoong plopped down on the grass on his back,  _ let’s look at the stars, _ he said, and Seonghwa followed. 

Under the moonlight like this, he looked like a dream. He looked like something Seonghwa would die to touch, to kiss. 

Lost in thought, Seonghwa stared, barely blinking as Hongjoong tipped his chin back and gazed up at the starry sky. It was one of those rare nights in Seoul. (Perhaps it wasn’t; perhaps they weren’t even stars but simply satellites floating above them, but they still twinkled just as beautifully, Seonghwa thought, so it didn’t really matter. Not if the sight of them made Hongjoong look quite like this.) 

Awed, Hongjoong took a deep breath before letting it out with an apologetic, “I’m sorry I tried to kiss you the other night.” 

Whatever Seonghwa had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. He rolled on his side to face Hongjoong better, wondering, “Hm?” Hongjoong turned his head to look at him and bit down on his lip. 

“I’m usually not that brash-- I- I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.” Then, softer, more earnest, “I just-- I really wanted to kiss you.”

Seonghwa’s breath caught in his throat upon hearing Hongjoong confirm it. He heard Yeosang’s omniscient voice in the back of his head snickering,  _ I told you!!  _ and promptly chose to ignore it in favor of blinking over at Hongjoong, smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay,” he said, huffing a short laugh, “I don’t-- I didn’t mind it if you’d-- I could have pushed you away, but--” Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s trembling gaze and licked his lips, letting his eyes flicker down to Hongjoong’s, “I really wanted to kiss you too.”

Back up at Hongjoong’s deep brown eyes, the man was drowning. Seonghwa saw a sea of emotion threatening to pull the other under, and, in a desperate attempt to bring him over the surface, he held Hongjoong’s arm, squeezing. But Hongjoong was already gone, falling-- melting into Seonghwa’s luring gaze and coaxing hands where they ushered Hongjoong on top of him, so his bejewelled fingers could fix to the front of Seonghwa’s shirt and bring him up the rest of the way into his mouth. 

He tasted like candy-- something tangy, like licorice. Smelt of it too. Seonghwa let it all drench him, envelop him like a cloud. Reached up to tangle his fingers in Hongjoong’s cherry red hair. He was made of it too-- Seonghwa sighed into his mouth, feeling Hongjoong’s weight settle above him more surely now, lips parting to let Seonghwa lick into them, chasing that syrupy tongue and sucking on it too. Hongjoong let out a dulcet noise at that, mouth falling apart at his ministrations, allowing Seonghwa to kiss him with leisure. He would savor this feeling as much as Hongjoong indulged him. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


They kissed until their lips had gone numb and Hongjoong’s mouth was just hovering over his, lazy nips every now and then followed by gentle puffs of air exhaled against the top of his lip. A sigh, and then Hongjoong rolled off him. 

He shifted, hips lifting from the grass, legs bent in a triangle as his face twisted in a half smirk half grimace. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, curious. Hongjoong huffed a restrained laugh, glancing over as he confessed, “I’m hard.”

It made Seonghwa chuckle, pouting, “I’m sorry?” But Hongjoong only snickered, pushing his hands into his licorice stained hair and ruffling his appearance even further. He shook his head. Dropped his arms on the grass behind him, a pillow. Seonghwa watched him bring a glossy lip between his teeth, fulgurating gaze skimming across Seonghwa’s in the dark. 

“Would you come see me?” he wondered, “Even when your song isn’t the only excuse?” Seonghwa saw his eyes were earnest, and nodded. 

“Yes,” he said, yes he would. 

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Something about their kiss that night must have struck Seonghwa like lightning-- or maybe Hongjoong had lured him into some sort of star-lit epiphany. No other thing could explain the full fledged lyric sheet Seonghwa plopped on his lap a week or so later, cheeks flushed where his grin pushed them aside. There wasn’t enough room on his face for all that glee. 

“Found your muse?” he teased, wagging his eyebrows up at the elder and earning a friendly kick to his shin before Seonghwa plopped himself down beside him on his bed. Mingi was knee deep in some music textbook upstairs, trying to figure out how to read musical notes out of a staff. Fruitless, Hongjoong told him--  _ you’d be better off winging that shit by ear- _ \- but Mingi was stubborn. 

“What do you think?” Seonghwa asked him. He was leaning in close, chest pressing on Hongjoong’s bare shoulder. He emanated warmth even through his shirt. Hongjoong pushed further against him, eyes trained to the lyrics the man had given him.  _ I also have my eyes closed and pray to meet you… getting closer one step at a time as you approach me, we have more confidence.  _ Lips twitching upward in amusement, Hongjoong gave Seonghwa a sideways glance. Seonghwa only tipped his chin at the paper, urging him to finish reading.  _ It was you, my shine light, came like fate, true light. Looking at each other in the night sky starlight. The moment we looked at each other the dark night is lifted. In there we shine.  _

The smile was eating his face-- Hongjoong felt it as he pushed his mouth onto Seonghwa’s, once, firm, before he pulled back. His eyes, doed and bright, blinked at him in surprise before they crinkled with a grin. Hongjoong laughed. 

“It’s lovely,” he told him.

“Pretty?” Head tilted to the side like a puppy, eager. Hongjoong thumbed at his chin. Hummed. 

“Pretty.”

  
  
  


-


End file.
